Modern day Morocco maintains many traits from the beginning of its 3000 year-old history. Street vendors, bargaining rituals, thieves, food stands, and tourists all have roles in the large cities. Morocco’s traditions have been through it all: the Phoenician arrival in 1100BCE, era of Roman rule in 146BCE, the Arab invasion (including Spain) in 711CE, and finally, the 21stcentury.
Phoenicians, Morocco’s first “tourists,” came by sea from Lebanon in 1100BCE. They invaded the lands of the indigenous Berber tribes and began colonization of Morocco. With the frazzled Berbers who escaped to the mountains, the coast was an easy seizure. Through prosperous coastline trading, Phoenicians jealously guarded Morocco for an additional millennial. By 700BCE, present day Tangier, Rabat, Essaouira, (in Morocco) and Carthage (another North African Phoenician major trade colony in Tunisia) had been developed. Fiercely they proclaimed the epicenter of North African trade. Glory was theirs, until 146BCE.
Following the trend of Mediterranean coastlines, Morocco and most of North Africa fell under Roman rule. In 146BC Roman forces crossed the Mediterranean and sacked Carthage for her valuable trade. During this time the Berber Kingdom (an accumulation of local tribes and refugees) began to grow. By 44CE Emperor Claudius imposed direct Roman rule. First course of action was a separation of North African territory into two groups: “Mauritania Cesarensis,” (Old Numidia) and “Mauritania Tingitana,” (essentially Morocco). Oddly this was the only discernable action pursued by the Romans over their reign from 146BC-429AD. The multiple attacks and rebellions from Berber and Germanic tribes probably prevented further changes to Morocco.
As degeneration of Roman North African provinces became more apparent, Berber and Germanic tribes grew in power. Eventually in 429CE, a Germanic tribe marauded the Moroccan region and seized power until in 533CE when powerful Byzantines claimed the coastlines for their use as wealthy trading outposts. Less than 150 years later came the introduction of Islam, led by the Arab Governor “Oqba Idn Nafi,” though it was a questionable reign after their 5000-kilometer pilgrimage from Arabia to the Atlantic Ocean, Morocco’s Islamic future set anchor. Then came “Tariq Ibn Ziad,” an Arab Governor from western Morocco who took Islam further. During his reign in 711AD, he rallied the people to conquer Europe. Across the Mediterranean, the new Governor led his fleet to Spain, conquering Spain with the exception of the Spanish Mountains. The Islamic Arab conquest peaked in Spain, though due to lack of accountability, things became uncontrollable. Thus began the dispersion of the Muslim world.
Morocco became a mother for many revolution refugees throughout the Middle East. Moulay Idriss was among these refugees. Morocco’s growing population soon yearned for a government. Adopted by the people as their leader, Moulay Idriss established the first sound Government and Arab court in Fez creating Morocco’s first capital city. After his assassination in 828CEthe Idriss dynasty remained firm for another century. Morocco soon began an interchanging supervision between powerful family tribes up through the mid-1800.
In 1492 drastic changes were made, Arabs were completely chased out of Europe by the Spanish inquisition. Forced to reconstruct their own lives in lands like Morocco, and after a bit of French & English colonialism in the 19th-20thcenturies, the people of Morocco make up a nation of two prominent peoples led by a king: Berbers in the mountains and southern regions, Arabs living on the coastlines and in the cities.
During my two months spent in Morocco, I could sense its history. Street vendors, bargaining rituals, thieves, and food stands hoard ancient sand dunes and cobblestone roads. Sadly through the glass, corrupt oligarchies still administer the land. Through all their changes and attempts at modernization through the support from Europe and America, Morocco remains cloaked 100 years behind a long sleeved smock.
Sailing in from Lanzarote late November 2018, prior e-mail contact with Marina Mindelo indicated no berths would be available during this, their high rally season. Three rallies, 2 ARC and 1 French, meant 95 extra boats would fill their pontoons to capacity during the same week our unintended circumstances had us arriving. Rounding the northern point between Sao Vicente and the large rock northwest of the Grand Port, the marina informed us over VHF ch72 that they were able to make space for us and to look out for their red dinghy, manned to assist us. With a forecast of high winds the coming weekend and Noonsite reports of several thefts aboard anchored boats in this popular bay, we tied up bow-in to the leeward side of Pontoon A, grabbing the mooring line from the dock hands and tying it off to our stern.
The one-hour time difference between Canary and Cape Verde Islands meant that after checking into the marina, we had 30 minutes left before the state offices closed. Using the map the marina office provided, I quickly walked solo the short distance to both Immigration and Border Police, offices adjacent each other just beyond the ferry terminal. Border Police had a simple form to fill out and would hold our ship’s original documentation paper, to be returned on check out. Contrary to another Mindelo cruiser’s Noonsite report, no paper relinquishing them of any responsibility of theft was offered or required. Immigration took a copy of our crew list and stamped our 3 passports, requiring €5 total for the service. Both offices gave notice that if we wished to depart on a weekend, we’d have to clear out through their offices the Friday before. The whole process, both offices together, took 15-20 minutes.
Checking into the marina was simple. Proof of Insurance, the captain’s passport to scan, and a standard form describing the vessel, crew, and prior/next ports were all that were required before taking my Visa credit card. They charge by the square meter. Our boat, 12.7m x 3.8m cost just about $30 day, which includes security, power, toilets, and access to WiFi through their Floating Bar restaurant. Water is a premium here, so the marina access card doubles as the water card. One pre-pays for water, $5 buys 250 liters for both their showers (hot) and dockside water. Although potable, it was highly recommended it be filtered. Their fuel dock offers VAT-free diesel, costing about $1/liter, 15% less than at the street-side service pump. The high volume of cruisers arriving for the rallies motivated the marina to set up a telecommunication SIM provider on premises. One euro bought the SIM, €10 bought 8 GB of data, valid for 30 days. The marina is well run, clean, and convenient to all services.
BoatCV operates a smart yacht services shop on premises and can connect boats with other service providers. There seems to be some bad blood between the marina and BoatCV owners, but we had no issues. The facilities, marina staff, the restaurant staff, security, and the chandlery are attentive and professional, operating at the highest standards relative to most locations we visited across our circumnavigation. A swell surge can push boats around and strong gusts can jet through the bay’s valley, so many fenders, chafing gear, and attention to dock lines is required. When it comes to an overall wet-berth marina experience, this place is hard to beat.
The location is convenient as well, central to Mindelo. Many cultural opportunities are within walking distance of the marina and inexpensive land tours can be had. Open markets and small supermarkets have most anything one may wish to provision. The local butane gas company seems capable of filling most any gas bottle fitting, including Amerian/Australian. Cooking gas filling service itself is straight forward and nearly immediate. Laundry from an outside vendor is collected and returned at 09h and 17h daily. They charged $12 for 7kg of laundry, washed, dried, and folded. From the USA, we had two items mailed to us at the marina Priority International USPS, a box of parts and an envelope of documents. The parts took a week and no customs charges were applied; the documents, 2 weeks. As for security, the marina feels safe and guarded from theft. I can’t speak to boats anchored. The ever-present young men and boy beggars and the proximity of the beach to the anchored boats might prove problematic.
Mindelo is mellow, quaint, clean, and convenient. The views of the surrounding mountains and nearby island are stunning. Yes, industry surrounds the port, but feels much less imposing than at other countries we’ve visited. Portuguese and Creole are the common languages spoken here. Service providers offer varying degrees of English, French, Spanish, German, etc. We enjoyed the local dishes and drinks. Cachupa is never the same dish from restaurant to restaurant, so once is not enough. Grogue is a local spirit as strong as vodka and “punch” is a syrup, low in alcohol. Both are inexpensive, less than the cost of a soft drink. Together, they make a tasty cocktail. I think they should give my new cocktail creation the French name for a mooring buoy, “corps mort,” which, when translated directly means, “dead body.” (Turns out I didn’t invent anything. The drink’s actual name sounds like: “Strompf-Parot.”)
Through the marina office, we arranged a standard island tour, covering three coasts. It was well worth the €60 for the three of us (the car accepts up to 4 at no extra cost), which included driving to the windy summit of Mt Verde, the tallest mountain on the island. The driver didn’t speak English and very little French, so we didn’t learn much about the history, but he took us to great photo spots, walking paths, and Restaurant Hamburg for an inexpensive local lunch.
Sailing to Cape Verde took us 8 days and will cut about 3-4 days from our upcoming Atlantic crossing to French Guiana. I feel the extra time spent to experience this African island was well worth the diversion. It also proved to be enjoyable and pleasant way to shake down the boat before our third and last ocean crossing. I wouldn’t insist that a cruiser come this way, but were they to make the effort, they would likely be pleased that they did, especially if they could dock at the marina.
From here, we leave for French Guiana, Suriname, and possibly Guyana, in route toward the Panama Canal. Cheers from sv Kandu!
After college, age 22, while traveling on svGetel across the Pacific with Eric in 1989, I had time to pause from the ‘busy’ness of life laiden full of skills learned across multiple disciplines in order to earn a living, and reflect on how incredibly blessed my path had been up to that point. During that crossing from Hawaii to San Francisco, there was a difficult and rather scary 24-hour period when I pushed myself into a tight corner crevice, crossed myself (unusual for a Lutheran), and prayed. At that moment during the raging sea storm, in the most uncomfortable and frightening circumstance of my life, I thanked God for all the extraordinary experiences that my parents had provided me and the incredible opportunities to learn and to grow unhindered by war, by pestilence, tragedy, sickness, hunger, disability, poverty and even unattractiveness. I acknowledged that I had already lived a terrific life. Overwhelmingly thankful, I was prepared to die. Fortunately, the storm passed and we lived to sail under the San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge.
Today, thinking back at that moment and my life up until then, my life had been truly blessed: born in California in the late 1960’s, healthy, strong of body with a decent brain, and an only child of devoted upper-middle class parents. Truly, I was the princess that most of my high school friends perceived me to be, living atop the hill in a big modern house that my father built. Although I never thought, nor think of myself as a princess. I rarely got new clothes; mine were mostly hand-me-downs. My parents owned a record player with basic speakers, a simple medium-sized television and VHS machine to record shows – purchasing movies was out of the question expensive, and renting movies wasn’t a possibility back in the late 1970’s. Spending time on the telephone long distance was forbidden. My parents didn’t often take me out to eat. We drank milk or water with dinner and ate simply. I learned a great distaste for shopping because while my mother loved to go ‘shopping,’ we rarely bought anything. Our big spending was food on special. Before I was ten, I collected aluminum cans, sorting through trash bins to recycle. When I was 10, I sold mistletoe wrapped and tied with a bow to neighbors for a $0.50. Later in high school, I babysat the neighbors’ children. I never received an allowance.
However, what my parents did offer me, above and beyond any material prizes, were experiences. With my mother, we joined a roller-skating club. I was four. Until I was twelve, I spent most of my after-school hours and weekends at the roller-skating rink, taking lessons and practicing. At age six, I started taking piano lessons. A little later I took-up violin in the elementary school orchestra…I was now taking piano and violin lessons.
My mother was a snow ski addict. During the winter months, we would drive up to the Tahoe mountains on Friday afternoons having packed all our food and sandwich materials for a weekend of skiing. At that time, Squaw Valley attracted families to their ski resort by offering children to ski free until age 14. I skied so much as a youth, that by the time I was 16, I was skiing the most difficult runs on the mountain. My mother’s brilliant idea, I attached a horn to my ski pole. While on the chairlift looking down, I would honk the horn to congratulate fellow skiers on their great form skiing and/or crashing. Haha. I used to ski so hard, that my own crashes were enviable…but fortune would have it that I never experienced a debilitating accident. At that time, we skied without helmets.
Then one day, my father showed up with a modest water ski boat. From then on out during the summer months, we would pack-up the El Camino with a camper top (my cousin and I lounged in the back on a cushion reading books – I became an avid reader – no DVD movie players back then) and headed out on late Friday afternoons to the bay area delta for the weekend.
Around age 12, my mother’s interest in roller-skating dwindled. She asked me if I wanted to continue. I was good enough that if I continued, I would have started skating freestyle pairs – a dangerous sport for girls as they are twirled, lifted, and thrown in the air at their peril. At the same time, my interest and skill at playing the violin had markedly grown. We decided that our roller-skating days were over. Instead, we water and snow skied many weekends, I poured myself into local after school sports (softball and soccer), practiced and played the violin, sang in choirs, and improved my mind through academics and reading. Junior high was marked for me by singing in the choir, the purchase of a good violin and playing in the orchestra at the junior college, but most significantly, having to wear headgear to school; before I smiled I was considered a small, cute girl. Haha.
My mouth was such a tangled mess, that the orthodontist required I wear braces and the worst possible: headgear 24 hours a day – even to school. He was going to wire the apparatus in so that I couldn’t remove it. Fortunately, my mother and number one advocate, protested the wiring and assured the doctor I would wear it. In the bathroom, my mother discovered me in tears trying to hide the headgear under my hair. She held me in her arms and said: “You won’t be able to hide it, instead, flaunt it!” From her crafts, she pulled out ribbons and dried flowers and together we decorated it in style wrapping it with bright colors and festooning it with “charm.” Interestingly, I was rarely pointed out or ridiculed. During those months, we arranged at school for me to eat lunch privately in a classroom away from prying eyes. The orthodontist predicted I would need to wear the headgear full time for five months. I determined that would not do. The moment my teeth stopped aching, I would tighten the gear myself. Three months later, my teeth had reached their new permanent place and the headgear was no longer required. I wore braces for just a year and retainers every night thereafter.
While I was in junior high, my mother went back to school to San Jose State University. My grandmother would pick me up from school to take me to violin lessons. Other days, I would attend soccer practice and/or walk home, practice my violin and piano, do my homework. A couple nights a week, I was expected to cook simple dinners – rice and vegetable stir fry and/or spaghetti with salad. In eighth grade, I auditioned for Oakland Youth Symphony Orchestra and was accepted into the second violins. For three consecutive summers, I earned music scholarships to attend La Honda Music Camp in the Santa Cruz mountains to improve my skills and make contacts.
Moving forward in time, as a freshman at San Leandro High School, I auditioned and was accepted to sing in the Notables Choir, and continued to study piano and violin privately.
The day I turned 16, I passed my driver’s license test. My parents were so relieved from having to taxi me around to rehearsals, they allowed me to drive their robust El Camino truck to school and to my numerous music commitments. By that time, I was playing string bass in Young People’s Symphony Orchestra, I was 6th chair of the first violins in Oakland Youth Symphony (OYSO), taking lessons in San Francisco, and heading to school for 7:00 am rehearsals for Pirates of Pizazz, our high school “glee” club of singing and dancing. School mornings, I would pick-up two friends who also sang in the group. As might be expected, with all that driving, before I turned 18, I caused two smallish car accidents where fortunately nothing but the cars were damaged. There is a reason why drivers under 25 pay more for insurance. My parents were kind to me about those accidents as I was driving myself from orchestra rehearsals both times. They had the cars repaired, paid the higher insurance fees, and I continued to drive. Through OYSO I got a chance to travel to Europe…travel without my parents. It was my 16th summer. The travel bug hit me hard.
Time passed musically. I had started taking French as a Sophomore in high school, and became so advanced that in my Senior year, I finished my high school classes at noon and continued French courses at Hayward Junior College. Between my orchestra classes as a junior high student and the French classes, before I graduated high school, I had already accumulated 58 college credits. I then graduated HS with good grades, but earned unimpressive SAT scores. After appealing my application, University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) accepted me as a Freshman.
I could go on about the blessings of my life through University and beyond. I continued to have and to create opportunities. And then I met Eric. Through him, I found the courage to pursue a career in opera which led to more wonderful teachers and eventually to a Master’s and Ph’d in Music supported by teaching voice and a ‘priceless’ 12-year career singing in the chorus of Los Angeles Opera. These incredible opportunities were afforded to me by hard work and great people who helped and nurtured me along the way. I have never been exceptional at anything…even opera singing…but through much perseverance, I have become very good at a lot of things, even typing.
Eric also did well in his chosen career and we experienced an extraordinary boon; Eric and I were blessed with two very sturdy, healthy, and intelligent sons with whom to share our lives.
And you wonder why I wrote this account that sounds a bit like boasting, why I recorded it ‘out loud?’ I wrote all this as an edification for a thought that has been mulling around in my brain for some time, since I was 22 and sailing aboard sv Getel. Now at almost 52 having traveled the world for 4 years, I have seen so many extraordinary sights, experienced incredible cultural events and have witnessed in person war torn countries, very poor people, and interacted with all types from different regions of the world. I ask myself and God why have I been so blessed? Surely, I have had to struggle in my life, but my struggles, in general, have been self-inflicted as I have toiled to grow, improve my understanding in music, language, writing, math, spirituality, singing, sailing, etc. Was it the environment in which I grew-up and the choices that I made along the way that protected me from horrible hardships? Was it luck to have good health and simply good fortune, and that I have not had to battle against oppression of all kinds?
This morning aboard our sturdy sv Kandu, before writing all this, a song was wafting around in my mind from Rogers and Hammerstein’s “Sound of Music: Something Good.” The lyrics repeated over and over: ‘Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.’ I’m not sure if a good life or having many blessings is a reward for good works in this life or another. It’s entirely possible that because of my “good life” or ‘Princess on the hill’ benefits, I still have much to accomplish of good in the future – to ‘pay it forward’ so to speak. I don’t know what that payment is or may be, or even if it’s necessary in the scheme of things. However, it doesn’t stop me from wondering deeply. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. Nevertheless, I feel the utmost gratitude for all that has made this outstanding life possible and to those that have been instrumental in this life I have been living.
While preparing to leave Agadir Marina, I found our Yanmar freshwater pump leaked beyond repair and needed replacement. With only 7 Schengen days left on our visa and Spain’s Canary Islands at high season with packed marinas, I decided to take my chances with what I read was a difficult Moroccan Customs. First my experience, then how I should have done it.
Morocco does not allow yacht owners to import parts free of duty “yacht in transit” unless the part is coming in as part of an insurance claim and the yacht’s insurance agency works with one of the many pre-approved Moroccan insurance partners. Although the US vendor was cheaper, I privately ordered a pump, bolts, plus a spare and all gaskets from dieselpartseurope.com $825 US. Both DHL and FedEx have offices in Agadir. Dieselpartseurope.com shipped FedEx, 3-4 days, Netherlands to Agadir for $165. Within 48 hrs, the packaged arrived in Casablanca where Customs held it.
Packages above $20 do not transfer within Morocco automatically, and having clients refuse to pay customs fees, FedEx will no longer accept in advance on your behalf and pass on the charges to the recipient at acquisition. Note also that mechanical parts costing more than $1,360 (including freight, insurance, tax), must come with an additional importation permit. Two days after the package arrived in Casablanca, I received a FedEx notification of Customs’ withholding. I called FedEx Casablanca for clarification. I’m glad I speak some French. FedEx offered me three options: come to Casablanca and deal with it by myself, hire a broker to deal with it on my behalf, or pay FedEx $60 to broker it on my behalf. I opted for the latter. They asked for a copy of my passport, a copy of the invoice with my ‘ship to’ name and marina address, a photo image of the parts, and a parts description in French. I lost an additional two days due to some minor inconsistencies with my invoice, but fortunately dieselpartseurope.com and I were in similar time zones and they made the necessary modifications. Then FedEx Casablanca asked for a bank transfer to cover the Customs’ costs (23.5% ++, of total invoice including taxes, freight, packing, and insurance), $275. FedEx Casablanca would not accept a credit card. As an American, not easily able to transfer funds as the rest of Europe does, I discovered I could instead pay the FedEx office in Agadir. I paid in cash but I think the Agadir office might have accepted a Visa credit card. Two days later, Casablanca had the package. The next day they shipped it to Agadir and the next day it arrived, 12 days after it arrived in Casablanca. I then had to pay FedEx a Customs’s storage fee based on weight and duration of $17, not FedEx’s charge.
Recommended procedure: contact FedEx or DHL office Agadir in advance for a list of recommended brokers and see how much they charge, or deal directly with Agadir’s FedEx or DHL in advance and pre-arrange payment options, asking them to alert you ASAP of customs duties, taxes, and fees owed. Exchange with a representative’s contact information, phone and email. Provide them with the tracking number, a copy of your passport, the invoice, photos of the parts, description of the part in French and why you need them. Make certain the “Ship to” invoice is to your name, with the marina as an address, not the recipient. My hope would be that by doing this in advance, you’ll save 5-7 days.
One more option: go through the commercial Yanmar dealer in Agadir. They’re located in the commercial port where foreigners don’t have access, but Youssef Ajewher, a kind local yacht service person, a former merchant ship engineer, working privately at Agadir marina would be glad to assist you. The Yanmar dealer is said to provide you with a quote including freight, time frames, and customs’ costs estimates within 2-3 days. I didn’t go this way only because on day 1, I had a quote in hand from dieselpartseurope.com, with FedEx 3-4 day. I don’t know what the cost or experience would have been had I waited for the quote from the Agadir Yanmar dealer. I may have jumped too soon. I do not know.
My wife, teenage son, and I are circumnavigating aboard our 42-foot Tayana sailboat Kandu, currently waiting for a replacement freshwater pump for our Yanmar engine in Agadir, Morocco, in preparation for our trip to the Canary Islands. I have some time to pass on some how-to’s we’ve learned over the past 4 years of cruising. Diesel fueling is a frequent chore on our boat.
DIESEL STORAGE: In order to motor distances greater than Kandu’s 500-liter tanks would allow, like when we motored thousands of miles through the pirate zone north of Somalia, and up the Red Sea, to minimize how often we have to go to fuel docks, we’ve loaded Kandu up with 320-liters of cannisters or Gerry jugs. In a Belgian museum, we learned that the term “Gerry jug” comes from WWII US G.I. slang for fuel cannisters modeled after those used by the German military. “Gerry” was slang for a German, thus Gerry jugs.
RECYCLED or REPURPOSED JUGS: In the US, sailors buy their Gerry jugs complete with nozzles, whereas the rest of the world uses alternatives which are free and readily available sans nozzle, converting 20-25 liter heavy duty plastic motor oil, coolant, and/or vegetable oil containers into diesel jugs. In Gibraltar, smugglers loaded with jugs of fuel throw overboard their empty and sometimes full jugs. Each morning, fishermen collect the discarded jugs. That’s how we got our last five 25-liter jugs, from Pepe, a helpful man you got them from a fisherman. The jugs interiors are cleaned with soap and water and then rinsed out with diesel that is discarded to provide a container ready to top up.
GASKETS: Not designed for re-use, these types of recycled jugs often leak fuel from their caps. The standard third-world solution is to cut squares from recycled plastic bags and screw them on between the cap and the jug, a poor man’s gasket. These gaskets are good for one or two uses before they fall apart and need replacing.
FILTERING: Diesel engines require clean fuel to run properly, free of debris and water. We rarely take fuel directly into our tanks without filtering it through our specifically engineered water fuel filter funnel; diesel is able to pass through the filter’s fine screen but amazingly, water does not. Water molecules are too large and don’t pass through the fine mesh.
SYPHONING: To migrate the fuel from a Gerry jug into one of our three tanks, we set the jug such that its bottom is above the level of the deck fitting and then use a syphon hose with a chambered glass ball that when shaken gets the syphoning action going without having to suck fuel in with our mouths and risk swallowing and/or breathing it in. An alternative way to get the syphoning action to start is to place a short second hose alongside the syphoning hose with a firmly held (air tight) rag, and blow through it to cause the air pressure to initiate the syphoning action.
And lastly, old-school, just dip the hose as far you can into the jug without losing it. Place your thumb firmly over the hose’s opening, and quickly pull the hose out, drawing with it the fuel that filled the hose, releasing your thumb.
So that’s it. That’s how we store and fill our boat’s tanks with diesel. Hope this proves helpful.
The day before our departure to the Canary Islands, I discovered an irreparable leak in our engine’s fresh water pump. It would take more than 2 weeks before our replacement would arrive in hand. Moroccan customs are notoriously painful. Thus we remained berthed in Agadir Marina for more than 4 weeks, a great place to be “stuck” and here’s why:
Finding it was not immediately obvious when we came into the marina, here’s the entrance waypoint: 30°25.2 North, 9°37.0 West.
We called two days in advance by phone from Mohammedia to insure they had space for our 12.7m monohull (+212 (0) 5 22 79 84 84). They did. Apparently, although they monitor channel 9, they don’t reply. Upon our Friday morning arrival, we hailed the marina on VHF channel 9 with no reply. As we arrived, we were waved toward our berth and assisted in tying off bow first, our preference as we have a windvane. The dock pontoons are low and short. The distance between pontoons is large enough for catamarans. When a heavy swell comes, boats sway with great force. Chafing gear and extra lines are recommended. The staff does what they can to assist.
Water (reportedly potable – although we still filter it) and power are included in the slip rental, as well as toilets, a hot shower, and WiFi. Water requires a pipe thread to garden hose adaptor. The meager toilets and shower stalls are locked behind a single door, with the key hidden outside. The toilets (2) are sit down with toilet seats, but bring your own toilet paper. The poorly maintained single shower has enough hot water for one and half showers and is clean enough for those who aren’t particular.
Morocco houses Immigration, Customs, and National Police at the marina office, 24/7. There sole role is to process pleasure craft. I think they hear us hailing, but don’t always reply. Once you’re tied up and settled in, they come immediately to your boat and process you quickly and professionally. We offered them coffee which they seemed to like. They filled their forms, we provided them copies of our ship’s documents, and they took our passports to be stamped and returned 1-2 hours later. They asked for a blue customs form from Mohammedia, which we never received. They accepted our explanation without issue.
Speaking French helps, but English is fine. Note: they asked if we had a drone. If we did, they would have held it in their office until our departure. There were no charges for processing.
Checking into the marina office was casual. Check out is the same. They want to see your ship’s document for measurements. Their credit card machine doesn’t usually work, so be prepared to pay cash when you plan to leave. An ATM nearby usually works, but other ATMs are not far away. Make sure your statement reads “Paid in Full” to eliminate any potential misunderstandings. Let officials know when you plan to leave, at least 12 hours ahead, or the night before if you wish to leave early. They do break for lunch and they do have shifts, so best not to wait until the last hour to check out. Note: the marina office is closed on weekends and holidays, but you can pre-pay your slip fees. They are very accommodating.
Security is excellent, 24/7. The common gate leading to the pontoons is not locked, but closely monitored. We left our boat to travel to Essaouira and Marrakesh. The free WiFi in and around the office is adequate for basic needs, including phone and video chats. We were able to slowly upload short videos and handle all Facebook and internet needs for communication back home. For decent phone and data service, go to Telecom Maroc and buy a sim for 20 MAD. Once you have your sim, head over to a local tabac or convenient store to top up on phone and data service…50 MAD buys you 5 gigs of data.
A nearby fuel dock offers diesel, gasoline, and cooking gas at normal local gas station rates. We gravity fed our own propane tanks at the station’s boat yard using our own adaptors.
Here is an instructional video we made while hanging out at the marina on the subject:
Light provisions can be found close to the marina, but a 20-minute walk there and a 20-40 MAD (Moroccan dirham) taxi ride back from Carrefour and/or Uniprix, or from the main Souk (closed Mondays) is worth the time and incidental cost. Marjane is a super modern supermarket near Mr. Bricolage (Home Depot), accessible by the #98 bus (3.5 MAD pp, one way) discussed in more detail later. Car rental agencies occupy one block near the marina (we liked Lotus), or the marina can arrange one (we did this too). We paid about $33/day for a 4-seater small diesel car. When we first took possession of the car, it had almost no fuel, so our first stop was the station to top it up. Parking on the street or in a lot where there are attendants is normally 2-5 MAD, not 10! Apparently, some insurance is automatically included within the rental rate. Good thing as we were broken into (small back passenger window) while parked at a beach. Nothing was stolen, but insurance covered half the window replacement; we paid US$70. The window was replaced in a couple hours.
If you need any assistance buying parts, getting supplies, or with repairs, Youssef Ajewher, a kind local yacht service person and former merchant ship engineer, working privately at Marina Agadir would be glad to assist you. He helped us with many issues, including medical, getting recommendations, driving us around, bargaining and translating for us. He even knows where to dine. Having him care for us was a great relief and time saver. He accepts whatever you think his services are worth. If it were a simple errand, we paid him a little more than twice what a round trip taxi would cost because he knew where to go, who to talk to, and how much to pay. Sometimes, he spent nearly the whole day when we had a medical issue, making sure we knew what was what, and advocating for us. Obviously, we paid him more when he spent so much time, and he was grateful. I love that guy! Youssef Ajewher, +212 (0) 6 77 45 68 87, email: aj************@gm***.com
Agadir is a great place to visit and an excellent base from which to visit, Paradise Valley, Essaouira, and Marrakesh. We enjoy the sights, sounds, and scents of Moroccan souks (open marketplaces). Agadir’s souk is huge. Be sure to explore the nooks and crannies. Again – note that the Agadir Souk is closed on Mondays!Spices, olives, dates, almonds, walnuts, fruits and vegetables, butchers, bakers, souvenirs, electronics, cleaning supplies, clothing, it’s all there. The freshly peeled prickly pear cactus fruits are fun and wonderfully sweet and tasty. Expect to bargain, and even then, to pay more than a local. Bargaining is not our strength. Inside Agadir’s souk are wonderful micro cafés with inexpensive and delicious Moroccan dishes. Don’t be afraid to try out a café or two. On Fridays, couscous is served with vegetables, chicken, or beef. A portion serves enough for two and chicken couscous is 20MAD ($2.20 USD) which comes with additional sauce/broth. I recommend getting the bag of sour milk, a sort of buttermilk that marries perfectly with the couscous if your stomach handles dairy. They serve the milk with a bowl of plain couscous to mix with into a paste as an additional separate treat. I tend to leave an extra 5MAD as a tip. To get to the souk from the marina, walk awhile or take a taxi for about 30 MAD, or take a bus for about 4 MAD each.
Another souk a bit further away from town central, more rustic and active than Agadir’s, can be found in the town immediately south of Agadir at the end of the #98 Bus. Catch the bus just north of the marina (just north of the large round about by the fish market) and take the 98 bus to its terminus. It’s also your bus back. As you exit the bus, facing in the same direction as the bus, walk a few blocks further up and to your right. Ask around for the souk or “marche.”
This part of town survived the 1960 earthquake and its souk feeds the south of Morocco, selling mostly in bulk and wholesale. Chickens, turkeys, goats, cows, and camels are slaughtered between 5-8 a.m. The whole thing is an extraordinary experience sending you back in time.
Our favorite Agadir promenade restaurant is Herguita (aka Hurguita), a little place located just south of the La Coupole restaurant. It’s a wonderful stroll alongside locals and tourists. The Herguita breakfast and lunch/dinner combos can’t be beat for price, taste, service, and location. Breakfast of fresh squeeze orange juice, café au lait, Moroccan pastries is 20MAD. A two-egg a la carte cheese omelet is 16MAD. One lunch/dinner menu: soup or salad, brochettes or tajine, ice cream or mint tea for 60 MAD ($6.60) serves two of us. The avocado-date-milk drink is Bryce and my favorite Moroccan smoothie type drink.
Take a taxi before sunset up to the Kasbah overlooking Agadir for a wonderful view. They offer camel rides up there too, but we just took in the view of twinkling lights coming to life.
Bryce Rigney atop the deteriorating Kasbah wall
Kasbah of Agadir
Agadir Kasbah view overlooking the city
Through travel agency ‘AdmireMorocco’ located on the Agadir promenade relatively close the marina, we booked a local sand dune sand boarding trip located near Tamri (north of Taghazout right on the coastline) that included a traditional tajine lunch in the home of a Berber family; the three of us loved it.
One bummer about Marina Agadir is its proximity to the sardine fish packing plant just north. The smell and occasional dead fish floating around your boat can be a bit much for some. It doesn’t bother me, but then I don’t shower enough to notice.
PARADISE VALLEY is less than an hour’s drive from the marina. We rented a car. Don’t be fooled by the first beautiful stream-side date tree orchard with a Paradise Valley sign. Continue to take the ‘highway’ (currently under construction) much further into the valley, hugging the majestic sedimentary rock wall faces, layers of rock resembling pages from an enormous geological book. Keep going until you come to a ‘parking lot’ from where you can hike up, then down into the quaint picturesque valley. Little “resto’s” are everywhere along the 2-3 km trail, ready to serve you fresh juice or even a tajine lunch.
ESSAOUIRA is a picturesque well-kept old fortified seaport that can be a day visit from Agadir. Two and half-hours by car, buses are a likely option as well since the old town is small enough to tour entirely on foot. The excellent wood crafting is not to miss.
For MARRAKESH, reserve seats on a CTM or similar bus for 200MAD round trip per person. Take a red-colored taxi from the marina for 40 MAD to the Gare Routier (bus station). I don’t know how often a bus fills up, but tickets can be purchased in advance and paid with by credit card at the Agadir station.
The bus is very comfortable but no onboard toilet. The bus makes one toilet stop. Note: 2MAD is the standard fee for a toilet visit. It’s about 80MAD (maybe less) by taxi from the Marrakesh Gare Routier to the center of the old town. I recommend pre-booking a Riad in old Marrakesh (bed’n breakfast type accommodation). They are inexpensive, private Moroccan/exotic guest homes designed with a garden patio in the center, centrally located within walking distance of nearly everything, and include a delicious breakfast. Some have pools; all have roof top terraces. The beds are often hard and our room’s shower didn’t have hot water (no morning coffee required!), but we only paid $40/night for three adults at Riad Chennaoui. We booked the night before through Booking.com.
Bedroom Entrance
Bedroom
Breakfast
Two to three nights should be adequate time to enjoy most of Marrakesh, but there’s no rush either. A guidebook like Lonely Planet is all you need. Not necessary to hire a guide.
Marrakesh Jewish quarters
Marrakesh donkey cart
Streets of Marrakesh
Bahia Palace, Marrakesh, Morocco
Bahia Palace
Bahia Palace
Bryce Rigney, Bahia Palace, Marrakesh, Morocco
Bahia Palace
Bahia Palace, Marrakesh
Saadian Tombs
Leslie & Bryce Rigney at the Saadian Tombs, Marrakesh
Bryce Rigney, Marrakesh
Marrakesh Museum – renovated palace
Koutoubia Mosque & Minaret
Majorelle Gardens, Marrakesh
Relaxing at Majorelle Gardens
Eric Rigney at Majorelle Gardens, Marrakesh
Leslie & Eric Rigney at Majorelle Gardens
Moroccan dancer
Marrakesh streets
Dyer’s Souk
Handmade Moroccan leather shoes
JAMAA EL-FNA – In Marrakesh’s main square called Jemaa el-fna, we found a food tent, #31, serving only Moroccans. We ate there twice. The Café Glacier rooftop is the best way to experience the square as the sun sets; great photo ops, day and night. From there, you can enjoy the street performers (snake charmers, African drummers, acrobats) without their aggressive demands for money. Some sailors found Marrakesh to be an aggressive, overly populated, tourist trap. We avoided traveling there on the weekend and found it to be a treasure worthy of its worldly acclaim.
SURFING: And the main reason why we came to Agadir was for the local Atlantic surfing scene. There are several spots north and south of Agadir that are good. A 20-minute bus ride (just 7 MAD) north from Agadir on either L31, L32, or L33 is a favorite spot due to the nice accommodations at Richie’s Cafe located at K11 on the beach front route just south of Aourir and Banana Beach. It’s generally a beginner wave, but fun when Anchor’s Point, further north off Taghazout is not pumping. Taghazout is a surfer hangout surrounded by up-and-coming tourist resorts. Even more north just south of Tamri village is Boiler’s Spot where a big ship’s boiler can be found rusting in the wave break. It is a more intermediate to advanced break where Bryce had a great time when the swell was strong. Wetsuits starting in October are generally used.
Some things we didn’t do that sounded like fun:
1) Fez, just too far for us even from Mohammedia.
2) Book a camel trip to a desert Bedouin tent adventure. Sounds great, but we did camels in Egypt, and everything we were finding here was a bit too expensive for us. Those who did it, loved it.
3) There’s also a renowned film studio, but it’s a bit of drive from Agadir. Ouarzazate is the most famous where Lawrence of Araba was filmed and more recently: The Sheltering Sky, Last Temptation of Christ, Alexander, Gladiator, Black Hawk Down, Kingdom of Heaven and Prometheus to name a few.
Whether planned or not, an extended stay in Agadir proved of great value to us. Hope our insights help you get more out of this friendly corner of Morocco.
After Sudan, we were on a whirlwind tour of Egypt, Israel, and Europe. Not much has been posted on the blog site since then. The three of us – myself, Eric and Bryce – plan to rectify that, posting articles recounting more detail than revealed in our postings on Facebook about the many extraordinary adventures of the last 5 months. BTW – if you don’t know, Kandu is down to 3 as Trent returned to California to attend high school. He is living with Uncle Nick Rigney in Calabasas.
August 29, 2018
Dear Sara and family,
I have been thinking of you since we were in Spain wishing I had become more fluent in Spanish like you. Unfortunately, we didn’t spend any time in Spain outside Barcelona, darn it! Just had 90 days to visit the Schengen countries (The Schengen agreement among most of the European Union countries grants visitors a 90 day tourist visa…if not European, then you only qualify for a 90 day visitor’s visa out of 180…3 months within a 6-month period. Turkey, Croatia, Cyprus, England, Gibraltar are not part of Schengen.) It’s just as well, because our bank book is quite depleted. It’s been very expensive traveling and docking the boat in Europe west of Greece. We sailed past the lower boot of Italy bee-lining it to Pompeii – one of my bucket list sights.
RigneysKandu floating in Dead Sea of Israel
Santorini, Greece
Acropolis, Athens
Pompeiians asphyxiated
Walking the boardwalk of Ancient Pompeii
Eric and I had never been to Rome or Venice. Having the boys with us, it was a must to make efforts to hit the bigger sites. Maybe another day, we’ll get a chance to explore more of Italy as I really fell in love with that country, full of ancient wealth and history.
Florence’s Duomo: carved marble exterior
Roman Colliseum
Michaelangelo’s David
Gondola ride in Venice
Actually Paris this time for us was not as mesmerizing as it has usually been in previous visits and stays. Perhaps it’s because we were generously put up by a friend in the suburbs of Paris and it took almost 90 minutes to get into the city, making early morning and late night strolls a little more challenging. Oh well. Not to mention the hoards and hoards of summer tourists swarming the big sites, and the heat. I don’t remember previously visiting Paris in the summer.
Bryce Rigney at Le Louvre
RigneysKandu Men in Paris
I haven’t had a chance to write on our blog much since making Egypt. Now that we have a bit of time to breath having exited out of the Schengen territories, we can enact repairs on the boat and record more details of our explorations.
Most recently, we had a wonderful 6 weeks with my parents. Via extended invitations from our dear Belgium and French friends, we were able to introduce the boys and my folks to European living in many forms and to visit extraordinary sights and places like the picturesque & unforgettably charming wine villages along the Rhine in the Alsatian province. Eric and I had been to Alsace a couple times before, visiting with friends, but we had never explored the region: Colmar, Strasbourg, nor the wine trail villages. It’s no wonder why this region bordering Germany has been under contention for 100’s of years between France and Germany…it’s rich in valuable resources: hard working “Protestant type work-ethic” people and rich land for agriculture. The Strasbourg Cathedral housed the most incredible astronomical working clock we’d ever seen.
Baden Baden, Germany ancient fortress
Alsatian ladies dress in traditional costumes
Strasbourg Cathedral Astrological Clock
Alsatian style building, Strasbourg
Together, we also had time to visit some bordering areas/towns of Alsace including Baden Baden on the frontier of Germany – extremely wealthy boasting a lovely old fort that we hiked during the rain, and Luxembourg – which is clean clean clean, with a picturesque old town, fort, huge city walls and gorgeous Catholic churches. Of course, all through Cyprus, Greece, Italy, Belgium, France, Monaco and Barcelona, we visited churches, Basilicas, and Cathedrals ad nauseum. I loved it all….the boys were definitely done with the typical city offerings except the most spectacular ones such as St Peter’s Basilica in Rome, The Duomo in Florence, Versaille in France, and The Sagrada Familia by Gaudi in Barcelona. In Chartres Cathedral, France, the inside has recently been painted white to enhance the otherwise dire interior, but most specially the organist played for about 20 minutes, which for me, was magical.
Sagrada Familia Exterior, Barcelona
Sagrada Familia Interior, Barcelona
We’ve enjoyed so many other incredible country spectaculars: art museums, Napoleon history, war memorials and museums about WWI and WWII, plus many ancient sites, valuable and palatable history lessons for us all.
Ron n Rosie climbing Waterloo lookout, Belgium
WWII Memorial for US soldiers, Bastogne Belgium
Truly truly spectacular traveling which I hope to write about more fully on our blog now that we are moving at a more leisurely pace.
We and Kandu are now in Gibraltar harbored in Queensway Quay Marina. Trent, our youngest at 14 returned to California from Barcelona to live with Uncle Nick and started school August 23rd in Calabasas. Happily, he made the volleyball team. He is thrilled to be back home and excited to get academically serious. He’s extremely motivated. Bryce (16) flew solo to London last Friday night, visiting a good friend that he met in Athens.
Gibraltar – The ROCK!
Queensway Quai Gibraltar
Queensway Quay Marina, Gibraltar
Eric Rigney walking over Gibraltar Airport landing strip
Bryce is staying the 6 days with a dear friend of ours who is working on the next Spiderman movie currently filming in London. Bryce is exploring the city historical sites, skateboarding along the way.
Once Bryce returns, we’ll finish the remaining maintenance and repairs and sail off to Morocco, a two day sail, leaving Sept 3 to Mohammedia to visit Casablanca, Morocco. Then we’ll sail further south to Agadir to work on the boat a bit more and hopefully find some good surf for Bryce after almost a year of circumstantial abstinence. We plan to depart Agadir on Oct 1st for a two day sail to the Canary Islands (7-day stop, Columbus’s last before setting off to our New World), the Cape Verde Islands to restock (8-day sail), find a bit more surfing for Bryce – and then when the weather is good sometime around October 31st we plan to take off to sail the 18 days across the Atlantic .
After that – things are still undecided. If all goes well we’ll head straight to French Guiana, then Surinam, Guyana and north to visit a couple of the French Caribbean Islands, then west to the A, B, C’s of Dutch Antilles and Columbia to get ready to transit the Panama Canal around my birthday in February 2019. In the Eastern Pacific, we make our way north through Costa Rica and Mexico, skipping the less secure countries in between. It’s reported that there are pirates along the Central American coastline from Nicaragua through to Guatemala. Our plan is to return to Ventura end of May, early June 2019. Our McCool house has re-rented under a two-year lease. We are not beholden to any specific place to live in Southern California until we both land employment.
We’re getting close to the bottom of our cruising funds. From here on out, we’ve gotta be careful. Hopefully we won’t have big expenditures with the boat. We’ve already replaced so much!!!
Sending you big virtual hugs my dear girlfriend!
Leslie
Sunday, March 25th 2018 11:17 am – 16th day at sea having left Cochin, India on Saturday March 10th.
We’re slowly but steadily making our way through the Gulf of Aden. Up until yesterday over the Arabian Sea, we’ve had a marvelous sedate ride traveling the Indian Ocean: motoring, gently sailing, motor-sailing. These last 4 days we’ve been just motoring. Only this morning the wind picked-up and we’re downwind sailing – the wind is behind.
On Kandu, as with most sailing boats, downwind sailing is restless, uncomfortable business. After enjoying idyllic sea going for the first 15 days, rolling from side to side, rocking 30-40 degrees, sails filling and luffing, the movement is disconcerting and mind numbing. Stored food items bang around in their lockers while the clicking and clacking of the main and staysail add to the cacophony of sound. How can one think? And the crazy part was I had plenty of time to write and prepare the state and federal income tax returns before the incessant movement began – yet I didn’t. Somehow even in the calm, I couldn’t focus and center my thoughts. Perhaps we all needed some brain and body downtime from all the work accomplished in Malaysia, the massive cultural differences experienced in these latest countries, the fast-tracked sightseeing in India, and then the preparations for departure for 23 days across the historically notorious pirate infested waters of the Gulf of Aden.
Now after 16 days at sea when all the fresh fruits and veggies have been consumed and life aboard is rather exhausting because it’s impossible to sleep well for all the movement, it seems I can focus my thoughts. Silliness I know. Perhaps I can attribute it to a couple things: the fact that I’ve had enough mental rest, and the other, the heightened insecurity of having entered the High Risk Area (HRA) which is forcing me to be diligent and thoughtful. We’re sailing on the southern edge of the shipping corridor…closer to Somalia than Yemen. Yemen is presently in civil war. Six weeks ago, Yemenese soldiers tried to close the strait between the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. We heard before leaving India that their efforts to control the international shipping lanes endured about 2 hours before international navy warships “scared them off,” whatever that really means.
Every hour on the VHF radio Channel 16 since we entered the Gulf of Aden we hear:
“Securité, Securité, Securité
All ships, all ships, all ships:
Please contact the war force coalition (31 countries) on Channel 16, of suspicion or illegal activity.”
Every morning a coalition war force navy plane circles overhead and contacts us to make sure we’re well. This a.m. it was a Japanese voice that hailed us directly, by our vessel’s name, and announced that the surrounding waters were clear of all boats (suspicious fishing boats). The day before, we had experienced a fishing boat and 3 skiffs approaching us within 1 mile. The mother ship stopped right in front of our path. We contacted the war coalition on VHF. I hailed them three times while getting no answer until in the heat of the moment, I added that we were “under attack.” Eric proceeded to change our course 180 degrees motoring full-speed at 2200 rpm away to see if they’d follow. It turns out that the fishing boats did not follow. The war coalition couldn’t hear our initial hails. When a closer merchant ship heard we were under attack, it relayed the message to the warship coalition. Eric explained to them that we were not under attack after all. Still, they wanted to know our position and details; they even sent the naval aircraft overhead to check on us. It was reported as a non-incident. I felt quite foolish, the excitement of the moment having gotten to my head.
The day after that incident, having experienced positive results, brought a sense of security due to the coalition’s dominating presence in the area and the additional piracy deterrent: the weather. Wind and seas increased making it difficult for skiffs to travel over the sea’s surface. These factors combined, our worry over pirate threat dramatically lessoned since entering the Gulf. Perhaps this lessoning of worry is what is allowing me to focus my prevailing thoughts: thoughts that have been swirling about my head these past months.
Thoughts such as: “Why are we traveling on a sailboat engaged in this around the world trip?” “What purpose is it serving?” Answers to those two questions are constantly changing. Most of the time, I find our travels with the boys are serving well. Other times, like in this moment, after spending 16 days at sea, as if standing still in time, I wonder “What’s it all about?” (That’s to be sung to the pop tune!! Haha)
Other questions that I have been chewing on during this passage in particular: What does this navy warship coalition think of our decision to sail in the HRA (High Risk Area) Gulf of Aden and Red Sea maritime corridor, and what does the UKMTO (United Kingdom Maritime Trade Operations) with whom we’re regularly sending position reports think? Are we a nuisance or are the coalition and this incredible maritime protection community happy to protect all seafarers in the quest to allow world freedom of travel and commerce in the betterment of international trade and understanding? Are these just high-minded thoughts? Probably. However, I like to think that if the American belief of “freedom of speech” is a right, it follows that the “freedom to travel” is also a right. After all, a couple thousand years ago, the Romans worked very hard to create roads and to protect those roads to allow safe travel through their territories. Most certainly, there are risks when engaging in both practices. Are these freedoms ‘rights’ or ‘privileges?’ Either way, they constantly need to be protected, even when it’s uncomfortable, expensive and unpopular to do so.
On one of the becalmed days of this passage, Bryce and I were together on the front deck. Looking out over the expanse of glassy waters, a light haze permeated the sky such that the horizon opposite the setting sun was undistinguishable. The color was so unusual: a very light purple-blue hovering closest to the water and a mauve to pink coloration closer to the sky—a magically serene moment. Thousands of schooling fish were running on the surface likely being pursued by predators…sunset is the best hour to catch fish, evidently known by the fishworld too. Individual trails of water marked the individual fleeing fish. In every direction we looked, we could identify large schools of these fleeing fish interrupting the mirror quality of the sea – the activity continuing on past sunset’s lingering light. Mesmerized, Bryce and I shared this delicious moment of wonder and peace, quietly chatting together in awe of the wondrous spectacle of nature playing out, seemingly just for our benefit. If we didn’t have the freedom to travel, this moment would never have been.
Life Aboard on long passages – a stream of thought…
One evening during our passage across the Indian Ocean/Arabian Sea, I popped up into the cockpit from under the cabin, from the galley where I was cooking dinner, and looked forward over the ocean towards the descending sun. The sun was fluorescent orange, radiating intense color. The ocean glistened dazzlingly like I’d never seen before in shades of gold, silver and opalescent blue. It reminded me of a book I read that said we on earth see things through hazy lenses. If we were to remove those glasses, we’d see that everything on earth including ourselves is sparkling and scintillating with energy. In that moment, I felt a little outside myself witnessing that magnificent, brilliant beauty.
The four of us have been occupying our time differently – sometimes together, other times independently. We come together in the morning to eat breakfast if I make something special. Today is so bumpy that we independently ate cereal and milk. In the late afternoon or early evening, we assemble together in the cockpit to share linner (lunch/dinner) or dinner over conversation and to enjoy the coolness under the setting sun.
Eric spends a great deal of time communicating with our InReach Satellite texting system. He follows the weather, sends UKMTO position updates, posts to our RigneysKandu FB account and catches up with family and friends. Text-chatting with friends seems his hobby. Of course, he is regularly busy captaining our space/water vessel making sure we’re on course, that the engine and fuel are in order, making water, setting & trimming sails, etc. He’s been working with the boys on writing a paper about designing an act of civil disobedience, inspired by our visit to Malaysia and especially India and our study of Gandhi. We are all working on new vocabulary words. Today is a test on comprehension and spelling.
Bryce, Eric, and I are enjoying downtime watching episodes of the popular British television series, “Downton Abby,” sometimes together, but mostly independently during our night watches. We discuss together the characters, plot development, historical significance, English aristocracy, the World Wars, editing, acting styles, etc. . . . much food for discussion. Trent has been watching a video that my parents bought for us to improve one’s “mental math.” He’s been working those techniques into his math skills.
Yesterday, Eric and I finally showered after several days. The night before, I could hardly sleep against my own stench. Showering is a bit of work. We have a shower inside, but it is currently utilized as our large item storage locker harboring our Hookah air compressor, two folding bicycles, extra life jackets and other bulky items. So, we shower outside on the poop deck where a large cooler is stored and acts as a seat. When it’s windy, the experience can be very refreshing. The shower water is warm if the engine has been running. And, of course the boat is rocking. We sit lightly atop the cooler and wash positioning our feet in such a way as not to slip on the soapy, slippery deck. The boys go down below when I shower. I go down below when they shower. Only Eric has the luxury of not caring who’s showering or if he’s showering. We are all careful with the use of water as it takes hours and precious gasoline to convert salt-water to fresh with our reverse osmosis desalinator. Yesterday, two large ships were motoring at full speed past our starboard side as I was showering. They were a minimum of 4 miles away but I wondered if anyone aboard had binoculars – our lovely colorful gennaker was flying. Someone might have enjoyed a couple shows.
Bryce and Trent often say to me these days “Mom, you’re so small.” I reckon that’s their way of telling me they love me because it’s said in such a loving way and often accompanied by a squeeze or hug. Or perhaps they’re pleased with their growth spurts. Either way, as small as the boat is, we find ways to be kind to one another. We also find ways to carve out our own space. Half a day might go by and I won’t have spoken or related to one or any of them.
Passage life makes one lethargic. Accomplishing something is by shear will of spirit. We all try to be complimentary to each other and outright thankful when one of us has completed a necessary but challenging task (everything is challenging when the boat is rocking even 10 degrees): making water, transferring diesel, raising the gennaker, jibing, cooking, washing dishes, vacuuming, doing homework, etc. Watching movies is the easiest thing to do. Even reading can be difficult. By being outwardly thankful to one another, it’s our way of encouraging and being encouraged…even taking a shower gets praise!
During my ‘study time,’ I’ve been dividing my interests into learning the geography and world history of the areas we have recently seen and are soon to visit: Indonesia, Malaysia, India, Somalia, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt, and Israel. The depth of ancient political and religious diversity and trade is so profound. It’s no surprise these countries struggle to find themselves and prosper. In North and South America, the indigenous cultures were basically destroyed and/or blended by force, and the colonial enforced languages (English, Spanish, Portuguese, French) dominate their modern communications. Although more are spoken, there are 23 languages officially declared in India, each protecting special long-standing cultural traditions. But if an Indian wants to communicate widely, English is their go-to language. Ashamedly, I thought most East Indians spoke English, but only the higher educated actually speak some English. A similar situation exists in Indonesia and to a lesser degree in Malaysia where Bahasa is considered the official language. Various dialects of Bahasa make communicating widely difficult…so many Malaysians prefer to speak their local village tongues and then English. Some we met speak only English.
In the US and Canada, cultures are allowed to thrive. However, looking in from afar, I see that through our mass-education system and the media, we are brainwashed, which isn’t always a bad thing. By such a process, we have a more homogeneous society, blending traditions and religions together. Recognizing our similarities is the key, trying to understand each other’s cultures, being forgiving, accepting and especially being open-minded. Of course, problems pervade. The fear-based human condition of greed and cruelty is challenging to conquer.
My other, for lack of a better term, ‘hobby,’ or interest, is soul-searching spirituality. During our passages, lacking television plus other distractions, I have been reading a myriad of historical religious, but mostly spiritual related books: “Great Lion of God” by Taylor Caldwell about Apostle Paul, “Harlot By the Side of the Road” uncovering and explaining hidden biblical scripture by Jonathan Kirsch, “Siddartha” by Herman Hesse – read after we visited the Buddhist temple Borobudur in Indonesia. “The Story of Mohammed” by Harry Richardson a disturbing book which Eric read to me about the beginnings of Islam, “The Good Earth” by Pearl S. Buck that all four of us read and studied together, “World Without End” by Ken Follett about English middle ages and the Catholic Church, “Bridge Across Forever” by Richard Bach regarding a soul-mate couple that struggles to understand and to bring out the best in one another spiritually. Most importantly, a friend suggested that I read “Journey of Souls” by Michael Newton and “Same Souls, Many Bodies” by Brian Weiss.
These two latter books have answered so many of my questions about life’s purpose on earth, collective thought, quantum physics, existence after death, our soul’s earthly struggles, and the pervading message of: living on earth together in peace and sharing the planet healthfully while learning, teaching, and understanding each other. Love, kindness, generosity, compassion, forgiveness, anger-management, empathy, patience, free-will, open-mindedness, inner-contemplation, prayer, meditation and spiritual connectedness – these concepts have been utmost in my own learning.
“The past is history; the future, a mystery. Today’s a gift, that’s why it’s called the ‘present.’”
With all this soul-searching, I remain at a loss as to what I’m to do when we return home. I’m certain to continue to be involved in music, making and teaching, plus of course, helping the boys to achieve their educational goals. I’ve decided that I want to be more politically active in legislation regarding environmental issues, and gun control, and religion. Plus, both Eric and I will need to return to work . . . perhaps more travel once we’ve financially recovered. In any case, it’s a mystery. Appreciation of what we’re doing right now is paramount. We don’t want to miss experiences and possibilities presented in the moment. Even during these active travels, complacency abounds and the draw of comfort is all too real: escaping into sleep, losing self in games and/or movies (entertainment), not exercising, becoming irritable and picky, and a general failing to be grateful for the opportunities, beauty, protection and love that surrounds us. In our little space capsule on the open ocean – alone to ourselves – there is so much beauty and there are so many lessons to learn if one choses to be present and aware.
Sept 23 2017 – Kalimantan (Borneo) & upcoming plans:
Travel up & anchor in a river next to Kumai town.
Tour a traditional Dayak village with Sail Indonesia Rally 2017 and tour Kumai all organized by the local rally committee.
Learn about orangutan conservation @ Camp Leakey
Find & try bird’s nest soup
Reserve a Klotok river boat, guide, etc for a 3 days cruise to take us to Tanjung Puting Nat’l Park w/wildlife stops and onboard meals along the way, observing from & sleeping on the elevated deck.
Find a “boat boy” to watch over Kandu, living in the cockpit while she remains locked up; a common Kumai practice
Prepare to celebrate Trent’s 14th Bday with some “forest people/orangutans.”
Head off for exotic Belitung Island where Nick will join us.
That’s what’s planned for next week starting 9/25. As always, twice as much will occur over what is planned. There could be a welcoming dinner with trad’l dancing, a museum or temple or two, geological points of interest, food items, etc.
Sailing at night, we must pay close attention for little red & blue flashing LED lights affixed to wooden scaffolding fish attracting devices. Also, few Indonesian boats have AIS, even the larger fishing boats, ferry, tugs, & cargo vessels, which by int’l maritime law they are required to. Makes for a very attentive watch. FAD’s are invisible to RADAR and can cause great damage to a sailboat, esp the prop & rudder. Also have to be on look out for the occasional large ocean obstacle – in this case a random buoy.
Sept 24, 2017 – Celebrated Bryce’s 16th bday yesterday with chocolate brownies instead of cake! He loved the specially wrapped gifts of the items he’d picked out in Yogyakarta!
Arrived Kumai to unexpected gift. M/Y (Motor Yacht) Restless M owned by Claire and Errol White, longstanding friends of Eric was anchored in the river waiting for us. We anchored up to their huge yacht, enjoyed dinner together while BnT entertained us boat jumping and swimming in the muddy river water.
Sept 27 2017 – After reading about and hearing the sounds coming from swiftlet bird’s nest buildings, our imagination was peaked. The bird’s nest are highly sought after in China and they sell for large amounts of money per kilo. We bought 2 bird nests after 2-day tour of S. Central Kalimantan (Borneo).
Black swiftlet in nest
More bird nest infos
Edible swiftlet bird’s nests.
We were introduced to local tribes, sultans, & culture, including playing with blow darts and rice wine. During tour, took narrow 4-person river boat tours up a large stream to visit a local market place. It was like we were sent back in time.
Entrance Guardian
Dart games using bamboo
Rice wine served in bamboo
Sticky rice cooked in bamboo
Dayak tribe in costume
Dayak drummer
Dayak dancing
Leslie w/ Dayak woman
Trent & Dayak Guardian
Older Indonesian Man
Palm oil pod
Belitung river
BnT & Rainer on riverboat
Riverboat passengers
Open market egg carrier
Open mkt vegetables
Open mkt chicken
Open mkt fruits
Then orangutan conservatory lunch. A Jr. High School visit had special local music and dance. After the show, our boys were signing autographs like rock stars, girls screaming like at Beatles concerts. Leslie was asked to sing center stage to introduce them to opera. Then we headed off to the Kumai Tourist Center where we enjoyed more dance and music. They truly spoiled us!
Orangutan conservancy
Yawning orangutan
Incredible jungle lunch
Jr High Welcoming Committee
Junior high school presentation
Jr High Dancer
Jr High Band
Trent trying stilts
Scouts in Borneo!
Jr High Teachers
Jr High students
Meet n greet
BnT Superstars?
The second day of the Kumai rally tours brought us to a fancy Indonesian outdoor buffet held on Dayak communal grounds. The performers entertained us on a stage set-up under their Dayak house. They were beautifully trained middle school dancers and musicians. We felt thoroughly spoiled and honored. After lunch we were off to visit the local sultan and his family. The eldest daughter and wife were dressed in the most beautiful yellow gowns. She took a liking to Leslie and walked with her arm in arm around her grounds to Leslie’s absolute delight. They couldn’t talk to one another except in facial & body language yet the overall sentiment was equal admiration. It was a GREAT 2 days.
Kumai student tour guides and dancers.
Kumai middle school dancers.
Kumai middle school
Hornbill hat.
Starting tomorrow we will live on local river boat cruise for 3 days w/friends on all-inclusive excursion into Nat’l wildlife jungle park to glimpse orangutans in the wild, probiscus monkeys, macaque monkeys, birds, etc. We’ll be 8 to a river boat, communal room sleeping. They have a cook & r providing the food plus a guide. Leslie is happy – No cooking & cleaning!!
Some work to do on Kandu when we get back. Main Sail furler is turning roughly & we must clean port side fuel tank.
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